by Dawn Brower
She flashed a smile and turned, intending to take her leave. “I can see myself home. Thank you.”
Taking her elbow, he turned her to face him. “Nonsense. There is no reason for you to hire a hackney when I have a perfectly good carriage right here.” He gestured toward the same impressive coach that had delivered Lady Julia to her door the previous day.
Rose nibbled her lower lip in thought. The pair shared the same surname, but how were they related? Could they be siblings or cousins, perchance? Regardless, Lady Julia was fond of him. Perhaps not all lords were as odious as Annie’s earl had been. Surely, she would not come to harm simply by allowing him to drive her home. “Very well.” She sighed.
Her thrill of longing went through her when she wrapped her hand under his upper arm. She was certain the reaction had nothing to do with her current predicament. Stop you ninny, he is a lord. Lords do not court untitled misses. Mayhap if she told herself that enough she would get him out of her mind.
Lord Aubry waved off his driver. Instead, he opened the door to his coach and pulled down a tiny step for her to use. Holding her firmly, he assisted her up into the black lacquer barouche, his crest emblazoned on the door. Her skirt rustled as she sat down on the overstuffed leather seat. She had never been inside such a fine conveyance.
The lopsided grin he offered set her heart aflutter. She smiled back before averting her gaze. It would not do for him to see how deeply he affected her. Besides, her thinking became muddled while looking at him. She needed to focus on the problem of Mr. Wolfe. There had to be a way to stop him, without sending her to the poorhouse. There simply had to be.
About the Author
USA Today Bestselling author Amanda Mariel dreams of days gone by when life moved at a slower pace. She enjoys taking pen to paper and exploring historical time periods through her imagination and the written word. When she is not writing she can be found reading, crocheting, traveling, practicing her photography skills, or spending time with her family.
Visit www.amandamariel.com for more information on Amanda and her books.
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~Heartwarming historical romances that leave you breathless~
Only a Rogue Knows
Rebecca Lovell
Chapter 1
The thick curtains that covered the window in Cordelia Whittemore’s bedroom made it almost impossible for any light to get through, and that suited her just fine. She didn’t want anyone to see her crying, especially a passing servant. She looked up, clutching her handkerchief, and the image of what she’d just seen came back into her head and started a fresh wave of tears.
She’d trusted him, and he’d gone and done something like this. They’d hardly been married a month and now she had no idea what was she supposed to do with the rest of her life. Cordelia put her face in her hands. It felt as if she’d never stop crying.
“Cordelia!” Her door burst open and Arthur came hurrying through, tucking his neatly pressed white shirt into his pants. “I’m so sorry, my dear, I didn’t intend for you to see that.” She looked away from him, hiding most of her face in shadow. She didn’t want him to see how upset she was, but the tears in her voice couldn’t be hidden.
“How long has this been going on?”
“Since long before we were married. I didn’t want you to find out this way.” Arthur took a step toward her and she stood up and moved further away. “I’m truly sorry.” Of this Cordelia had no doubt but she didn’t know how to forgive him for infidelity, much less infidelity of this sort.
“I’m sure you are,” she said, recovering enough to put a note of ice in her voice. “What am I supposed to do now?”
“Don’t tell anyone,” he said, his voice almost pleading. “Please. It would kill my father.”
“You know I could divorce you for this,” Cordelia said, turning her back on him. “And the Court would allow it, as would the Church. It’s a mortal sin, Arthur.”
“I know, and I’m begging you not to. I never wanted to get married in the first place,” he said. “Father said that if I didn’t marry and give him an heir he would disown me. Once he dies, I’ll be Lord Whittemore and we won’t have to worry about him. You can divorce me then if you want.”
“And if he doesn’t die soon? What then?” Cordelia shook her head. “I can’t believe you would ask something like this of me.”
“I know,” Arthur said. “It’s not fair to you. There’s nothing else for it, though. If you want to ruin me, then by all means petition for a divorce. You’re right, no one would deny it to you and if that’s what you wish to do I won’t deny you.” He came around to where she was facing the wall, forcing Cordelia to look at him. She turned her face toward him, her jaw set in a way that she knew her own father would be proud of.
“All right,” she said finally. “I’ll keep your secret, but at least keep your affairs out of the house. Find somewhere else to do it or I really will tell your father about it.”
“Yes, of course. Whatever you want.” Arthur leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek and she shrank away from him. She couldn’t bring herself to let him kiss her after seeing him with another man. Cheating aside, she’d brought up to believe that it was unnatural and she didn’t know how she’d be able to look at him after this. He didn’t try to kiss her again and she looked away, unable to believe she was agreeing to this. “Thank you, my darling. You won’t regret this. I’ll make sure you have everything you could ever desire.”
“Mm.” Cordelia kept her face turned away from his and he finally stepped away from her.
“Well, I suppose I should go visit my father. He’ll be expecting me later but there’s nothing wrong with showing up earlier.” Of course not, thought Cordelia. Unless you come home early and find your husband with another man.
“Be careful,” Cordelia said, trying not to sound irritable. Arthur paused for a moment, then walked out of the room quickly, as if he was running away from her.
Once he was gone and the door was closed, Cordelia went behind him and locked it. Then she went back to her place by the window where there was a handsome wooden rocker. She sat down and began to rock back and forth slowly. Her anger was dissipating, being replaced by a deep sadness.
She’d brought the chair with her at her mother’s urging, and had been dreaming since she was a girl of sitting in the rocker and rocking her baby to sleep. Now that dream looked to have been shattered. If he wasn’t interested in her, then she didn’t know how they were going to have a baby. The only time they’d come close to making love was on their wedding night and it had taken quite a lot of effort. She’d attributed it to his being nervous and having had a lot to drink but now she knew better.
Cordelia started to rock faster, focusing on the sliver of light that was coming through the crack in the curtains and not the image of her husband with another man on his knees in front of him. She didn’t know if she’d ever be able to get it out of her head. More tears threatened to fall and she tried to will them away. She’d have to deal with the staff before too long and she didn’t want it to look like she’d been crying. They were all so kind, they’d want to know what was going on and she didn’t want to have to lie to them.
It suddenly occurred to her that they may have known about this all along. Feeling betrayed by both her staff and her husband, Cordelia sighed heavily and leaned her head back against the chair. She was really stuck now. The longer she stayed in her marriage, the less likely it would be for her to be able to get a divorce. All she could do was hope for her father-in-law to die soon so she coul
d get out of her marriage, and that made her feel even worse.
I’m well and truly trapped now, she thought. I wish Father had never made this arrangement.
Chapter 2
“Delia!” With her customary grin, Cordelia’s younger sister came rushing through the door past the butler, her auburn hair threatening to spill out from beneath the wide-brimmed lavender hat she wore. Bridget Ellison, better known as Birdie to her family, had always been the more exuberant of the two and being the baby of the family their parents had been a bit more lenient with her. As a result, no one could stop Birdie once she was in full swing. “I’m so happy to see you.”
“You just saw me last week,” Cordelia said, hugging her sister tightly. Birdie had always looked like a smaller version of her and when they were younger they’d had plenty of people ask if they were twins. Now that they were older there were slight differences in their height and face, but their brown eyes and auburn hair still drew the comparison. “It’s good to see you again, though. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Do I need an excuse to see my sister?” Birdie shook her head. “I just felt like getting away from the mansion for a little while. You hardly ever go out so I thought I’d come see you.” She linked her arm through her sister’s and Cordelia couldn’t help smiling. Birdie’s enthusiasm was contagious and she knew the house so she practically dragged her sister to the sitting room.
“How is your husband?” Breaking with tradition, Birdie had gotten married before Cordelia and was much happier. General Richard Ellison was almost twenty five years older than her but it was obvious to anyone who saw them together that he loved her dearly. Birdie had always fallen in love easily and this was no different. Cordelia couldn’t help but be a little jealous of her because of it.
“Richard’s fine,” she said cheerfully. “He’s so busy these days but he told me last night that he’s considering retiring from the navy so we can spend more time together. I told him not to be silly, I’ve got plenty to occupy me taking care of Walter and my big sister. Besides, we’re going to start trying for a baby of our own soon.”
“You are?” Cordelia tried not to sound dejected by this news. If her little sister had a baby before her, she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to be as happy for her as she wanted. “What does Walter think about this?”
“We don’t discuss what goes on in our bedroom with our son,” Birdie laughed. Cordelia felt another stab of jealousy. Walter was Richard’s son from his previous marriage, and Birdie had naturally taken him under her wing immediately. His mother had passed away some ten years earlier when he was a toddler and he couldn’t quite bring himself to call her Mother yet but if she knew her sister, she would talk him into it sooner or later. Everyone loved Birdie. “And speaking of what goes on in the bedroom,” Birdie said, looking around to see if any of the servants were listening, “I have heard some very interesting gossip about your husband.”
“Have you?” Alarm bells were going off in Cordelia’s head. When she’d told Arthur to keep it out of the house, she hadn’t considered that he’d just go down to the town to pursue his affairs. They lived out in the country, well away from Greenley, but she would have at least hoped he would go another town or so over to keep up appearances. “I’m sure it’s all nonsense.”
“I should hope so.” Birdie dragged her into the sitting room and closed the doors behind her. She made as if she was going to lock them and Cordelia sighed.
“Don’t do that, you’re acting like we’re telling family secrets in here.”
“We very well could be,” Birdie fired back. She went to one of the wing-backed chairs and plopped down in it, looking very much like the little girl she had been ten years earlier. They’d long since faded with age and better care, but Cordelia almost felt like she could even see the ghost of her freckles. Cordelia sat down in the chair beside her.
“All right, what’s this gossip you’re on about?”
“Well,” Birdie said, leaning in conspiratorially, “I heard down at the notions shop that there are rumors that Arthur has been seen in the company of men.” She raised an eyebrow at her sister, who cursed her husband again for being so indiscreet. “And not only that, but they also said that most of them were lower class. Have you heard any of that?”
“Of course not,” Cordelia said, hoping she sounded properly indignant. “That’s all a bunch of nonsense and you know it. In fact, you should be ashamed of yourself for repeating it. Arthur and I are very much in love and there’s no way he would be associating with those sorts of people.” She folded her arms over her chest. “Ridiculous.”
“Maybe it is,” Birdie said with a shrug. “The dressmaker seemed quite sure she’d seen him, though. He is rather well-known in the town.”
“All the more reason this is ridiculous. Even if he were going to have an affair he would hardly do it where everyone knows him.” She shook her head. “Did you come all the way out here just to spread silly gossip like this?”
“Of course not,” Birdie said. “I was coming out here anyway and thought I’d stop into the notions shop to get some supplies for my lacemaking, and that’s where I overheard the dressmaker talking to Mrs. Beewich.” She opened the bag that Cordelia hadn’t even noticed was over her arm and started taking out a large quantity of thread and a needle.
“You really should let your staff get those things for you,” Cordelia said, realizing just how much she sounded like her mother. Birdie looked at her and grinned.
“Oh, should I? I think this is far more fun. Otherwise I wouldn’t hear the good gossip. Apart from what I heard about Arthur, which you have assured me is nonsense, I also heard that Emmeline Warwick is pregnant with twins. Can you imagine? Two babies at one time! I don’t even know how you’d do that. I mean, I suppose women do have two breasts---“
“Bridget Ann Payne!”
“It’s not Payne anymore,” Bridget said, sticking her tongue out at her sister. She’d been prone to fits of being inappropriate since they were children but sometimes Cordelia couldn’t believe the things that came out of her mouth. She wondered what General Ellison had to say about it. “Anyhow, you never come to see me so the only time I get to see you is if I come out here.”
“Excuse me, my ladies,” a quiet voice said at the same time a light knock came on the door to the sitting room. Cordelia gave her sister a look that clearly said she needed to behave, then turned to the door.
“Come in, Patricia.” The door opened and a young woman in a maid’s uniform came in. She was new to the staff and very pretty, and Cordelia couldn’t help thinking a little bitterly that at least she’d never have to worry about Arthur sleeping with her. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing’s the matter, Lady Whittemore. I was coming to ask if you and your sister would like tea.”
“Oh, yes, please,” Birdie said with a smile.
“Thank you Patricia, that would be lovely.” The maid bowed her head, then went back out of the room. She closed the door behind her and Cordelia turned back to her sister. “She’s been quite a quick learner. You only need to ask her to do something once and she remembers it for later. I wish all our staff were as good.”
“Me too,” Birdie said. “I swear our maid is so old that she forgets her own name sometimes.” Birdie picked up the needle and thread and started making a series of complicated knots. Cordelia admired her sister’s ability to work with her hands so deftly when she was hardly paying attention to what she was doing and if she hadn’t been watching her make lace since they were teenagers she could have been distracted staring at her. “So what do you do all the time out here by yourself?”
“I read, mainly,” Cordelia said. “There’s a nice bookseller in town and I send the staff to get me a selection every now and again.”
“You should take up a hobby,” Birdie said. “Like lacemaking or something like it. You could learn to quilt.” As if to make her point, she made another knot with a flourish. “I can’t wait unt
il I have a daughter so I can teach her how to do this.”
“I don’t have any talents,” Cordelia said. “Not like you. You know I’ve always been clumsy with my hands. Mother was so disappointed in me.”
“That’s not true,” Birdie said. “You used to play the piano, remember? Mother always commented to her friends on how quickly you picked it up. Whyever didn’t you continue with it?”
“I honestly don’t remember,” Cordelia said. “Something to do with the teacher, maybe?” She frowned slightly. Something had caused her to stop playing but she couldn’t remember what it was. “I do remember having fun with it, though.”
“So take it up again,” Birdie said. “I’m sure Arthur would be more than happy to buy you a piano. It would give you something to do and I’m sure you’d be able to pick up where you left off.” She grinned. “With all the free time you have around here you might even be able to learn how to write your own songs. That would be fun.”
“I’d need a teacher for that,” Cordelia said. “I may be able to figure out the basics by myself but I’d have to have someone show me how to do anything complicated. You’re right, though, I’d only have to ask Arthur nicely and I’d have a piano in here the next day.”
“See? It’s perfect. Have him bring you in a piano and start playing again. Maybe you’ll get so good again that you’ll be able to teach your children how to play. Maybe one of them could become a composer or famous musician!”
“That would be nice,” Cordelia said with a smile. “I do love music.”
“Then it’s settled,” Birdie said, setting down her lace and reaching over to pick up her sister’s hands. “My sister, the musician.”
“Don’t be silly, Birdie. I’m hardly a musician yet.” Still, she couldn’t stop thinking about how much she had enjoyed the piano as a child. Something like that would definitely take her mind off things. Arthur’s affairs, which he seemed to be having all over the place with no thought to propriety, their inability to even attempt to have children, and her own loneliness out in the country with no one to talk to but the staff. “I’ll ask Arthur straightaway when he comes home.”
